


Never Happened

by seimaisin



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-26
Updated: 2007-12-26
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:52:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/pseuds/seimaisin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon's not that kind of guy. He’d never imagine his friends having sex with each other. Really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Happened

Brendon knew that Spencer and Patrick had a … thing. Not because they were into PDAs or anything – no, the two of them were the most subtle people in the world, or at least the most subtle people Brendon knew, which was admittedly not saying much when someone like Pete Wentz was included in that number. Spencer never draped himself over Patrick’s lap, and Patrick never pressed his face into Spencer’s neck and whispered come-ons just loud enough for the rest of the room to hear. Not that anyone ever did that when Brendon was around – well, no one except Pete, or Gabe, or William, or Ryan when he was in the proper mood, or even Brendon himself (though he rarely got any real play from any of those tactics, sigh) – and not that Brendon imagined either Patrick or Spencer doing anything like that. Much. Not more than once a day, anyway. Twice, maybe, if he saw Patrick knock on Spencer’s hotel room door, or if he wandered over while Spencer was watching Fall Out Boy play and saw the look in his eye. No more than three times a day, for sure. Brendon wasn’t that kind of guy. He’d never imagine his friends …

… okay, fine, he totally imagined his friends having sex. With him, with each other, with random people on the street. It wasn’t his fault his friends were all really hot. Spencer and Patrick had a particular hotness, though, that sometimes made him feel faint. It was stealth hotness, he decided, where one moment they’d be normal guys and then the next someone would bit his lip or lean back and expose his throat or twist his mouth in a scowl at Brendon (okay, that was mostly Spencer) and suddenly Brendon would have to squirm uncomfortably in his seat and hope no one looked in the direction of his crotch. Which they didn’t. This was kind of the problem. Sometimes, it seemed like everyone was having sex but him. Unfair.

Anyway. Spencer and Patrick were having sex with each other. Brendon knew it, everyone knew it. At least, he was pretty sure everyone knew it. It was obvious, if you knew either one of them. And once, Brendon walked onto his bus and interrupted them. He might have walked in on something really good if he hadn’t been singing “Ain’t No Other Man” at the top of his lungs when he opened the door. If he’d been quiet, he might have seen Patrick’s totally sinful mouth on Spencer’s … but, no, by the time he got back to the lounge, Patrick was sitting up and Spencer was straight-faced, if flushed. And his zipper was undone. Brendon thought about that one for a while, back in the venue, at least until Jon pounded on the bathroom door and threatened to break it down if Brendon didn’t come out right that very minute.

Later that night, before they went on stage, Brendon found the nerve to tap Spencer on the shoulder. “Hey, sorry for walking in …”

“Don’t worry about it,” Spencer said lazily, but Brendon could see that his cheeks flushed again even in the low light of backstage. “You’re as loud as a herd of elephants, which is occasionally useful.”

Brendon silently swore that he was going to be as quiet as a mouse from now on. Not that he wanted to catch Spencer and Patrick in the act … any act. Nope. Not him.

A few days later, he ran into Patrick as he left Spencer’s hotel room. Patrick’s hat sat crookedly on his head, and Brendon reached over to straighten it without thinking. “Thanks,” Patrick said, a small smirk on his face.

Brendon was suddenly distracted by thinking about all the possible reasons Patrick would have gone hatless in Spencer’s room. “Don’t want to go around mussed for the rest of the day,” he managed, somewhat stupidly.

“Oh, I don’t know, I worked hard to be this messy.”

Brendon must have been gaping, because Patrick’s smirk spread farther across his face, while his cheeks turned the same color as Spencer’s had. Brendon felt himself lick his lips unconsciously. When Patrick’s smirk turned into a laugh, Brendon fled in the opposite direction. It was either flee or kiss the smirk right off of Patrick’s deceptively innocent-looking face, and Brendon figured that Spencer would probably find some really creative place to hide his body if Brendon molested his boyfriend. Also, Patrick punched really hard, or so Pete said.

Later, after their set, Spencer poked Brendon. “Wanna watch Fall Out Boy’s set with me?”

And watch Spencer’s gaze cloud with slow heat while he studied Patrick? (Not that Brendon had ever watched Spencer closely enough to see that happen.) Brendon wouldn’t be able to handle that. Spencer was studying him with an unusually intense look, even for Spencer, and Brendon was suddenly distracted by the locks of hair that still stuck to Spencer’s temples with performance sweat. “Um, no, that’s okay, I … uh, need to go find something to eat.”

“You sure?” Spencer asked, and did his hand linger a moment too long on Brendon’s arm? No, Brendon decided he was just driving himself crazy. He shook his head vigorously, possibly too vigorously, because Spencer just shot him a strange look and walked away. Brendon rubbed his arm where Spencer had poked him and sighed.

So, Brendon tried to avoid places where Patrick and Spencer would be alone. Honestly. He didn’t try to catch them together at all. He definitely didn’t notice when both of them started glancing at him at odd moments, or see that they looked at Brendon, then at each other with identical secretive grins. If he’d noticed that, he might have been disconcerted, and his heart might have jumped into his throat every time he met their eyes. So it was a good thing he didn’t notice.

He walked into Spencer’s hotel room because the door was open a crack. That had to mean it was safe to come in, right? And Spencer had a functioning portable DVD player, while Brendon’s had suffered a tragic death by Guitar Hero. (Brendon had totally been kicking Jon’s ass, but he hadn’t looked closely enough at the floor before performing his victory dance. It had been a great victory dance, too, complete with jazz hands and twirls.) So, he pushed into Spencer’s room, intending to flutter his eyelashes and plead his case for an evening’s entertainment.

He did not expect to see Spencer leaning over Patrick on the bed. Patrick was leaning back on his elbows, and Spencer straddled his legs. Spencer’s right hand was lost somewhere inside the zipper of Patrick’s jeans, and Patrick’s head was tilted back, showing an expanse of ivory skin on the side of his neck. “Oh, god. I’m, um … I’m …” He meant to apologize, to back away and close the door behind him, but then Spencer’s missing hand made a movement and Patrick made this sound – shit, this completely amazing sound and Brendon was pretty sure he was paralyzed. Or hypnotized, because paralysis wouldn’t account for the fact that Brendon took two more steps forward, until he was standing right next to the bed.

He felt like a deer caught in the headlights when Spencer turned to look at him. Spencer’s eyes were dark, and his lips were swollen, like maybe Patrick had been nipping and sucking at them already, and god did Brendon not need that mental image, or the idea of what it would taste like to do that himself. “Oh, fuck, Spence, I just …”

“Honestly, Brendon, either get out or make yourself useful.”

Brendon stared dumbly at Spencer. “What?”

Patrick grabbed Brendon by the wrist. “Just shut the door, dumbass.”

Brendon barely had time to kick the door closed behind him before Patrick jerked him onto the bed. He skidded on his hip and inadvertently knocked Patrick onto his back. From the other side of the bed, Spencer laughed. “Apparently Brendon wants to skip the preliminaries.”

“Good,” Patrick said, and pulled Brendon down to capture his mouth. Oh, god, Brendon thought. Yeah, that was Patrick’s mouth, and wow, that was really good. More than good. Their tongues slid across each other and Patrick’s hand tangled in Brendon’s hair and holy shit, Brendon was kissing Spencer’s boyfriend and getting away with it, how awesome was that? A moment later, Patrick was groaning into his mouth – and yeah, he could keep doing that, too – but Brendon soon realized it wasn’t his kissing technique that caused the sound. When he broke the kiss and glanced down Patrick’s body, he saw Patrick’s jeans pushed down and Spencer’s hand wrapped around his cock. Huh. That was hotter than Brendon had ever contemplated, and he heard a high-pitched whining noise coming from his own throat. Patrick, meanwhile, made another low noise and raised his head just enough to scrape his teeth across Brendon’s throat.

At this rate, Brendon was going to run out of incoherent noises before any of his clothes came off. Assuming his clothes were going to come off. He assumed, considering that Patrick was shimmying out of his jeans and boxers and allowing Brendon to push his t-shirt up over his head – which had no hat, and somehow that seemed more intimate than anything else – and that Spencer was already shirtless. Brendon always had loved seeing Spencer shirtless, but it never happened often enough. Yeah, he saw him change clothes all the time, but Spencer wasn’t prone to wandering around half-naked like some other people on his bus. (Not that Brendon was an exhibitionist or anything.) But, now, Brendon was presented with a whole lot of smooth, pale skin, from Patrick’s belly to the place where Spencer’s hand met his flesh, up Spencer’s arm and to the curve of Spencer’s neck. Brendon couldn’t resist, he crawled over and kissed Spencer chastely where his neck met his shoulder. Spencer murmured something, possibly surprised at the innocence of the gesture, but then Brendon ran his hand down Spencer’s stomach and slid his fingers into the waistband of his jeans. When he felt curls pressing against his fingertips, Spencer finally turned and nuzzled at Brendon’s hair. “God, Brendon, you’re distracting me.”

“Good,” Brendon said, pushing his hand farther down and turning his head just enough to touch his lips to Spencer’s. When he brushed against the base of Spencer’s cock, he was rewarded with a guttural sound and an open mouth to swipe his tongue into. Spencer reacted instinctively by sucking on Brendon’s tongue, and fuck, yeah, there weren’t words for that. Brendon moaned and tried to push his hand farther into Spencer’s jeans, but there wasn’t enough room. When Spencer pulled away from his mouth, he said, “Jesus, why do you wear such fucking tight pants?”

“Brendon,” Spencer tried again, his voice rougher. “I’m working on something here.”

“Me too,” Brendon said, but he looked down at where Spencer’s hand still worked its way up and down Patrick’s cock, too slowly to make any progress. Patrick’s eyes were closed, and his hips lifted up uselessly against Spencer’s movements. “Oh, wow,” Brendon breathed. That was hot. He should probably let Spencer do more of that. He pulled his hand out of Spencer’s pants. Spencer whimpered a little. “What? You asked …”

“Shut up,” Spencer told him. He leaned over and grazed his teeth over Brendon’s earlobe before he focused his attention back on Patrick. Brendon decided to do the same. He fell to his hands and knees and pressed his mouth to the soft curve of Patrick’s belly. He heard Spencer breathe, “Oh, yeah,” and Patrick groan. Patrick’s hand rested on the back of Brendon’s neck, as Brendon moved slowly up his body. When Brendon ran his tongue over an already beaded nipple, Patrick’s grip tightened and Brendon reveled in the feeling of strong fingers making marks in his flesh.

Brendon could hear the soft, obscene sound of Spencer’s hand moving faster and faster; he looked up at Patrick’s face, and was rewarded with a view of Patrick’s gaze going blank as he came, arching up and muttering fantastic sounds that may have included “Spencer” and “Brendon” somewhere in the middle. Brendon watched in amazement. As Patrick went lax against the bed, he crawled up far enough to bury his face in Patrick’s neck, breathing in the smell of sweat and sex. “God, you guys are …” he murmured against his skin, trailing off when the right word wouldn’t present itself. “Awesome” seemed woefully inadequate.

“What, Brendon?” Spencer asked, his voice surprisingly close to Brendon’s ear. “What are we?” One of Spencer’s arms wrapped around Brendon’s stomach, while the other flicked at the button on Brendon’s jeans. “God, why aren’t you naked yet?”

“I was distracted,” Brendon said. “You’re not naked, either, you know.”

“You both need to be naked,” Patrick told them. “Seriously, right now.”

Spencer’s hands slid up underneath Brendon’s shirt; his calloused fingers tapped indistinct patterns over his skin. “God, I love drummers,” Brendon sighed.

“How many drummers have you had?” Spencer wondered.

“Not enough, apparently. God.” Brendon threw his head back against Spencer’s shoulders as the latter pinched his nipple lightly. “Spence, jesus.”

“You like that?”

“Naked, Spencer,” Patrick reminded him. He propped himself up on an elbow and ran a hand over Brendon’s jean-clad thigh before reaching behind him to poke Spencer somewhere that made the younger man’s breath catch. “Both of you.”

Brendon’s t-shirt was discarded in moments, and he moved away to the floor to hop out of his jeans. When he turned back, he saw Spencer tossing his own jeans to the floor. Spencer was already hard as he knelt back up on the bed, between Brendon and Patrick. As he stared, Brendon noticed the flush of Spencer’s skin, which started around his navel and stretched all the way up to his cheeks. “Gorgeous,” he growled, before kneeling back on the bed. He knew what he wanted in that moment, so he leaned over and slid his mouth over Spencer’s cock before either of them could say anything. He was rewarded with an inarticulate sound from Spencer, and a “holy shit” from Patrick, but mostly he was rewarded with the feeling of Spencer’s hips jerking up, thrusting him to the back of Brendon’s throat. It was a good thing, Brendon thought faintly, that he was a practiced cocksucker. He made a mental note to thank any ex-sex partners he ran into, because the feeling of Spencer writhing underneath him was possibly what he’d been practicing for, but never knew it. Spencer’s cock was all he wanted. Except possibly Patrick’s cock. Maybe he’d try that next. And wow, this wasn’t a fantasy, he really could possibly suck Patrick’s cock next … Brendon grasped Spencer’s hips and tried not to hump the bed. Focus. He needed to focus, because blowing Spencer’s mind was very important.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Patrick chuckling, but then Brendon’s lips touched the base of Spencer’s cock and he forgot everything but taste and smell and hips and movement. At least, until he felt a strong hand wrap around his own cock. His mouth slid off of Spencer, who moaned and grabbed Brendon’s hair. Brendon took a second to twist around and look – Patrick knelt behind him, molding his hips to Brendon’s as he slowly jerked Brendon’s cock. When he saw Brendon watching him, he stopped, but not before rubbing a thumb over the head. “Keep going,” Patrick told him.

“No shit,” Spencer muttered, tapping his fingers on the back of Brendon’s head. “You fucking tease.”

Brendon felt Patrick’s warm flesh pressed against his ass, making him sigh happily. He looked up at Spencer when he felt a not-quite-gentle tug on the hair at the nape of his neck. “Patience, grasshopper, I’m savoring the moment,”

“Less savoring, please, I’m going to die.” Spencer scowled as Brendon laughed. Brendon kept his gaze focused on Spencer’s face as he licked his cock from base to tip. He enjoyed the way Spencer’s eyes glazed over. “Fuck, Brendon.”

“Maybe later,” Brendon said, humming softly as he took Spencer in his mouth again.

Patrick’s hand started moving again, and Brendon’s head swam. But, after a moment, he picked up Patrick’s rhythm and started following it, sucking up on Spencer each time Patrick’s hand slid down over the head of his own cock. There was nothing but sensation – seriously, a marching band could have come through the bedroom and Brendon wouldn’t have noticed a damned thing, nothing but Spencer’s groans and Patrick’s skin against his ass and the impending orgasm that he was trying desperately to hold off until Spencer came. He wiggled back against Patrick, hoping he’d take the hint, because if he came first he was going to be useless, he knew. Luckily, Patrick seemed to understand, because his strokes slowed, the thumb of his other hand rubbing circles into Brendon’s hip. Grateful – but also desperate to get Patrick’s movement back – Brendon pushed Spencer deep into his mouth and sucked with all the pressure he could muster. It only took two swallows before he felt Spencer jerk artlessly, and suddenly he was coming at the back of Brendon’s throat. Brendon took everything, and didn’t pull entirely off of Spencer’s cock until the other man had collapsed back onto the bed, gasping and swearing under his breath.

“Fuck, you two are so fucking hot,” Patrick growled, and his grip on Brendon’s cock tightened until it was almost painful. Brendon whimpered and dropped his face to Spencer’s hip, pressing back into Patrick and rolling with his renewed strokes. In no time at all, Brendon felt his body spasm, and he muffled a scream in Spencer’s skin. He felt Spencer’s hand rest on the back of his head, and Patrick lean over and press a wet kiss into neck before crawling farther up the bed. When Brendon looked up, Spencer and Patrick were kissing, a lovely, lazy gesture that made Brendon sigh and curl up against Spencer’s leg.

When Patrick got up to fetch a towel, Spencer tugged Brendon up to claim a kiss from him, as well. Brendon decided he could get lost in Spencer, easily. He wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist and sighed happily against his mouth. “Took you long enough,” Spencer murmured, the vibration of his words making the nerves dance under Brendon’s skin.

“What?”

“We were waiting for you.”

“What?” Brendon repeated, pulling back slightly.

Patrick climbed back onto the bed and laid himself against Brendon’s back, reaching down to run the towel over sticky skin. “We were waiting for you,” Patrick echoed.

“But … how?”

“Heard you coming down the hall,” Spencer told him. “I told you, herd of elephants.”

“And you’ve been watching us,” Patrick said, resting his chin on Brendon’s shoulder.

“You guys were watching me!”

“You watched us first,” Spencer said. Brendon stuck out his tongue, and Spencer poked him. “Don’t stick that thing out at me unless you plan to use it.” Brendon responded by licking him on the side of his neck, up to a place right underneath his ear. Spencer squirmed, and Brendon made a mental note – ticklish. That could be useful later.

Patrick laughed and ran a hand down Spencer’s hip. His arm rubbed against Brendon’s torso, and Brendon raised his arm and wrapped his hand around Patrick’s. They stroked Spencer’s skin together, making Spencer close his eyes and hum contentedly. Brendon felt Patrick’s breath against his skin. “Do I get this now, for real? Both of you?” he asked softly.

“No,” Spencer murmured. “We’re just messing with you, you moron.”

“Be nice to the less fortunate, Spence,” Patrick said, huffing a laugh against Brendon’s shoulder. He kissed Brendon’s skin lightly, as Spencer curled closer to Brendon’s body.

Brendon totally didn’t fall asleep with a smile on his face. That would have been rude, to fall asleep in someone else’s bed before they were asleep themselves. And even if he did, he didn’t hear soft chuckles over his head. However, he definitely felt two pairs of arms tighten around him. Brendon ignored the scent of sweat and the dampness of the sheet against his leg, and slept more soundly than he’d slept in ages.


End file.
